Till Death Do Us Part
by Laptoper321
Summary: A Jolteon named Andy was recently stabbed with a knife and tries to survive his predicament. He is conflicted on the fact that he may never get to live his life to the fullest, never experience the things he dreamed of... and that his death would have no meaning. He may very well be forgotten in this gloomy, unforgiving society. But one can only hope that that's not true.


**Hello people of the fanfiction media! I just want to get this one, very important thing straight, THE BASE OF THIS STORY WAS NOT MADE FROM ME, this is just my take of the real story called: " On the Sidewalk Bleeding". According to Wikipedia, The original was written by a man named _Evan Hunters_ and published in 1956 on a Manhunt magazine. Me? I just rewrote the whole story, replace the title with what I think is a more fitting one, and integrated Pokemon into it! But the idea of the original story is still intact, so no matter how much I add, I can't even come close to calling this story my own, the idea and credit of the story goes to _Evan Hunters_!**

 **(NOTE: Most elements of the original story are preserved, like the names of the characters and plot. Since the story has Pokemon replacing humans, they will of course have a human-like society. For example, this story takes place in a city, with buildings and all that jazz. I prefer that the Pokemon keep true to their biology at the MOST, so they don't wear primary clothing, like a shirt with jeans or something. But they can wear secondary clothing, like jackets, hats, and eyewear; also, Pokemon that typically stand on all fours, like the Eeveelutions, WILL stand on all fours throughout the story.)**

 **Sorry for the long pre-story description :P**

 **ANNOUNCEMENT [6/11/2016]: I recently read a review accusing me of plagiarizing this story by Evan Hunters, from an anonymous guest review. And of course, I have to defend myself or else I would actually sound like a thief. So let's start! First of all - THIS IS NOT PLAGIARISM! Why? First of all, Dictionary ****states that plagiarizing is when you copy someone else's work without crediting them or getting permission from the original creator. Wikipedia states that _Evan Hunters_ is down in the dumps (AKA: Dead) in 2005, so I can't get permission. But I made it very clear that I'm giving credit to the author of the original; so this alone already proves that I'm not plagiarizing. Another thing the review said is that I'm copying large parts of the story _word for word_ , which is wrong. If you compare my story and the original, then you can see that no paragraph is exactly the same to their original counterparts (though there may be a few dialouge texts that are similar), I just took the idea/concept of each paragraph and re-worded it in my own words.**

* * *

A Jolteon lay on the sidewalk bleeding in the rain on a boring day of July, at least… boring, until now. He was sixteen years old, and he only a wore an unzipped bright purple cloth jacket that stood out like a sore thumb from the gloomy, metropolis landscape; there was not a hint of green in this massive city. The lettering across the back of the jacket read _"THE ROYALS"_. The Jolteon's name was Andy, and the name was scripted in black yarn-like thread on the front of the jacket, just over the heart, but much smaller and a lot less noticeable than the golden wording.

He had been stabbed ten minutes ago. The shiny, stainless-steel knife had entered just below his rib cage and had been drawn across his body violently, tearing a wide gap in his delicate flesh. He lay on the sidewalk with the rain pounding down on his jacket and body, the rainwater washed away the blood that gushed out of his open wound. He had known the excruciating pain when the knife ripped through his body, and then sudden relief when the blade was pulled away. He had heard a voice filled with hatred and disgust saying:

"That's for you Royal!"

And then the slapping sounds of rushing footsteps mashing against puddles of water made itself known, until it slowly trailed off and then covered up by the thwacking sound of heavy rain. Andy couldn't speak or even do any act of retaliation during the swift ambush and had instead fallen onto the concrete sidewalk, clutching his stomach, trying to stop the flow of blood. Lying with pain only in his senses, Andy looked up in an attempt to see who his attacker was, he saw a Hitmonchan with a jacket, similar to his own but red, racing down the street he was going to stroll through, trying to flee from the crime he had committed. The jacket had similar golden lettering to Andy's, but the lettering was in big letters on the back of the coat, it read: _"THE GUARDIANS"._ His presumed attacker was clutching a knife in his right boxing glove, the serrated blade was smothered in blood and the rainwater was slowly washing it off; it was covered in his blood… _his_ blood.

He tried to yell for help, but he had no voice. He did not know why his voice had deserted him, or why the rain had suddenly increased in its ferocity. It was 11:13 PM, but Andy was ignorant of the time.

But there was another thing that was unknown to him.

He did not know he was dying, and that Giratina would soon come to recover his soul. He lay on the sidewalk, bleeding, and he thought only of how the attack went, mentally commending his killer:

 _That was pretty good. He got me good that time._

But he was not getting the point, the fact that he was going to die, he would've been frightened if he knew. In his ignorance he lay bleeding and wishing he could cry out for help and cover up the nasty tear in his flesh that would kill him if not treated soon, but there was no voice in his throat. There was only the bubbling of blood that would then pour out from between his lips whenever he opened his mouth to speak; then the blood would be washed away by the rain. He lay in his state of everlasting pain, waiting, waiting for someone to find him.

Andy could hear the sound of automobile tires hushed on the rain swept streets; unfortunately, the sound of hope was far away at the other end of the long alley. He lay with his face pressed to the sidewalk, and he could see the splash of neon from graffiti far away at the other end of the alley, tinting the pavement red and green, slickly brilliant in the rain. It seemed to be the only thing exploding with life in this colorless city.

He pictured someone coming to his side. A Vaporeon with a smile to end all others looking down at him and giving him proper aid. That beautiful face he knew all too well, a special someone that he'd known for a year.

She offered help one day after a rumble with a rival gang of the Royals, she introduced herself as Laura, and took the liberty of bandaging his wounds even without Andy's authority. She used a very effective remedy involving water for the several bruises he had received. They began to meet occasionally after that day until they started dating, Andy couldn't have asked for a better gal to spend the rest of his days with.

He wondered if Laura would be pacing around in their apartment in worry. He had just left to get a pack of cigarettes, telling her that he'd be back in only a few minutes, but now it had been over thirty minutes. When he had gone downstairs and found the candy store closed. He knew that a convenience store on the next block would be open. So then he had started through the alley, and that was when he had been ambushed and brutalized in the quickest fashion possible.

He could hear the faint sound of music now, coming from a far off in the distance; then he remembered reading a poster somewhere advertising for Pokemon to come to a concert today. He wondered if Laura was dancing there, wondered if she had missed him yet. Maybe she thought he wasn't coming back. Maybe she thought he'd cut out for good… no, she wouldn't think that, she said she would simply await for Andy to return. But maybe she left to look for him. He thought of her face, the gleaming violet eyes, the attractive snow-white ruff around her neck, and the beautiful trio of fins on her head. Thinking of her relieved some of his pain a little, forgetting the blood was rushing from his body, in the moment of bliss.

Someday he would marry Laura, the sweetest girl on Earth; the only flaw of her was that she was strict when Andy suffered any sort of injury, but that was a good thing. She was much like his mother, which may be why he was so fond of her. Someday he would marry her, and they would have a lot of kids, and then they would get out of this dangerous, crime-ridden neighborhood. They would move to a clean area in the Bronx, or maybe they would move to Staten Island, anywhere that's suburban and teeming with green. When they get married, life will be perfect, and it will stay that way forever, as long as he is with Laura. Only something as tragic as death would separate them... or maybe not, because then they'd be together for eternity in the afterlife, and watch their children grow and continue the family bloodline. They'd die of natural causes, of old age, so that there would be no shame or regret in dying. Instead, they'd be happy, no matter what, even beyond the afterlife.

He heard footsteps at the other end of the alley, and he lifted his cheek from the concrete and looked into the darkness and tried to cry out, but again there was only a soft hissing created from the bubbling of blood in his mouth. His voice will be gone until his wound gets patched up.

The owner of the footsteps was a Flareon wobbling down the alley. He had not seen Andy yet. He walked, and then stopped to lean against the brick of the building, and then walked again. He saw Andy then and came toward him, and he stood over him on his hind legs for a long time, the minutes ticking, ticking, watching him and not speaking. But the Flareon finally broke the silence,

"What'cha doing down on the ground, buddy?"

Andy could not speak, and he could barely move, not with a spike of pain surging through his body with even the slightest motion. He lifted his face slightly and looked up at the Eeveelution, and in the rain swept alley he smelled the putrid odor of alcohol. The Flareon was drunk, his mouth looked like a squiggly line and his brown eyes were slightly closed with his eyelids from the daze the liquor was giving him.

But then the fire-type Eeveelution smiled,

"What'cha doin' down there, buddy?" He asked before hiccuping. "You must be pretty wasted too, pal." He squatted alongside Andy and chuckled. "Why don't you get yourself up and *hiccup* we can share a beer at a bar around here? *Hiccup*"

Andy didn't respond to his offer, it was the last thing he wanted right now.

"You're gonna catch cold there, *hiccup* and start blowing snot all o'er the place." He joked. "What's the matter? You like layin' in the wet?"

Andy didn't answer, rain continued to beat down on them.

"Well, I happen to be carryin' some booze with me *hiccup*, would you like some of that?"

Andy shook his head, he didn't want to get drunk at a time like this. He never drank before, and he certainly didn't want to try now.

"I gotta bottle of it. Here," the Flareon said before pulling a pint bottle out from the fluffy fur on his tail. Andy tried to move, but pain pinned him back down against the sidewalk.

"Take it *hiccup*," the drunk Pokemon said, keeping his dizzy eyes on Andy. "Take it, it's my treat, from an alcohol lover to another." When Andy did not move, he said, "Nev' mind, I'll just 'ave it m'self." He pulled the bottle away from Andy and tilted the bottle to his lips, and then wiped the back of his paw across his mouth. "You're too young to be drinkin' anyway. Jus' look at you, should be 'shamed of yourself, drunk and layin' in an alley. Shame on you. I gotta good mind to call a cop."

Andy nodded his head feverishly, ignoring the pain,

 _Yes, call a cop. Please call one._ Andy prayed.

"Oh, you don't like that, huh?" The drunk said. "You don' want a cop to find you all drunk an' wet in an alley, huh? Well okay buddy, I'm feeling pretty generous today. This time you get off easy." He smiled. "Jus' be careful out there," He said. He waved broadly at Andy, causing him to almost lost his balance, so he got back into a regular stance on all fours. "See ya around, buddy." He said, before padding away from Andy, occasionally putting a forepaw on the brick walls again for balance, until he disappeared into the maze of buildings.

 _Wait,_ Andy thought worriedly. _Wait please, I'm bleeding… come back…_

He watched and kept his gaze at where his only hope had vanished, then rested his drenced yellow-furred head back on the ground. He was back to square one, with no one help to him, no one to save him. He was starting to feel numb, the pain felt like it was going away; that doesn't make any sense, if he's starting to feel better, then why is blood still flowing out of him? Slowly, Andy was beginning to realize his fate.

The sound of the faint music in the background increased in volume.

Suddenly, a couple dashed into the alley Andy was in, but they didn't seem him. The couple was an Umbreon and an Espeon using her psychic energy to make a newspaper float above them to shield them from the rain. They were laughing and giggling, and took cover from the barrage of water droplets in a arched-covered doorway about ten feet away from Andy, but the beating rhythm of the rain and darkness shadowing the alley completely masked his presence to the couple.

"Sweet Latios!" the Umbreon exclaimed. "It's like the whole city is becoming a giant public swimming pool!"

"Yeah," The Espeon chuckled. "But… It's getting late, Freddie. I have to get home."

"We still got some time to bust," The Umbreon, now known as Freddie, said. "Your people won't raise a fuss if you're a little late. You can make an excuse with this kind of unforgiving weather."

The Espeon nodded, then she moved her head around to examine the area they were in, then her lavender-furred cheeks began to color. She looked at Freddie with loving eyes.

"It's dark~." The girl pointed out, and she giggled.

"Yeah..." The dark-type Eeveelution answered, his voice very low and steady. Like he knew exactly what the she was thinking. The two got on their hind legs and Freddie slowly began to gently push the Espeon against the brick walls and nuzzle his forehead against hers.

"Freddie...?"

"Yeah?"

"You're... very close to me."

"I know~..."

There was a long silence. Then the girl said: "Oh," only that single word, and Andy knew she had been kissed by her lover. Then he suddenly yearned for the warm feeling of Laura's mouth. It was then that he wondered if he would ever see Laura again.

 _No,_ Andy refused to believe, _I can't be dying, not from getting jumped, not from a little cut, a child could survive this. Guys get cut all the time in rumbles. I can't be dying. No, that's just ridiculous beyond belief, it makes no sense at all._

"You shouldn't," The Espeon said, curling her lips in embarrassment.

"Why not?"

"I… I don't know."

"Did you like it?"

"...Y-Yes.."

"Then that's all that matters, you don't need to feel all ashamed."

"But... what will my parents think?"

"You know they already approve of me, it'll be fine. I promise."

"B-But, what will my friends-"

"Listen to me, I love you Angela, more than anything. I'd give my life for you." Freddie declared, then gave her another meaningful square on the lips again, which Angela embraced once again.

"I… I love you too... Freddie." The Espeon, now known as Angela, said slowly, then breathed a sigh of happiness. Andy listened to the amorous conversation and thought the same thing:

 _Laura, I love you too, more than anything. But I think I'm dying. Laura, this is stupid. but I think I'm dying. This can't be happening._

Andy tried to let out any sort of speech, but failed. He tried to move and squirmed around, but failed. He tried to crawl toward the doorway, but failed. He tried to make a noise, a sound, anything. Finally, grunt came, a crude grunt of pain like it was from a dying animal.

"What was that?" Angela yipped, a tone full of alarm, she broke away from Freddie and looked in the direction of where the grunt emitted from. It was only darkness that was shrouding Andy now.

"I don't know." The Umbreon answered.

"Go look, Freddie. Go see what it is."

"No. Wait. We don't know what it is."

Andy felt a burst of hope, and tried his best to make another sound. An identical sound erupted from his muzzle.

"Freddie!"

"What?"

"I'm scared." She confessed, and clinged onto the Umbreon's waist by wrapping her forepaw around him. Her double-pronged tail constricting Freddie's bushy tail for comfort.

"I'll go see." Freddie said, and inched his way towards what he thought would be a stray dog in critical condition. Contrary to his belief, a Jolteon simply lying on his side on the ground came into his view instead. He returned back on all fours for a better view, and he had eye-contact with Andy's pleading eyes.

"You all right? Do you need help?" he asked softly.

"What's over there?" Angela cautiously asked.

"Somebody's been hurt," Freddie replied, still keeping his eyes trained on Andy.

"What?! C'mon! Let's get out of here!" Angela quietly hissed in worry.

"No. Wait a minute, this guy needs help." He squatted down beside Andy, scanning for any injuries, his red eyes immediately locked on to a spot below Andy's ribcage that was being covered by his paws.

"You cut?" Freddie asked.

Andy slowly nodded. The Umbreon kept looking at him. He saw the lettering on the jacket then. He turned to Angela.

"He's a Royal." He informed.

"WHAT?! FREDDIE! WE HAVE TO-" She stopped, noticing that she was flipping out, and took a deep breathe. "Let's just-… what… what do you think we should do, Freddie?"

"I don't know. I don't want to get mixed up in this. He's a Royal, if we help him, the Guardians'll be after our hides. I don't want to get mixed up in this, Angela."

Andy couldn't help but feet hurt and offended when he was simply known as a member of his gang, the Royals in the eyes of the two, and nothing else. And they were reluctant to help him just for that reason. They even failed to notice the lettering of his name on his jacket.

"Is he... is he hurt bad? What's wrong with him?"

"Yeah, there's a huge cut on his stomach."

"What are we gonna do, Freddie?"

"I don't know."

"We can't just leave him out here in the rain, or else he'll die." Angela hesitated and looked at the ground in guilt. "Can we?"

"If we get a copy, the Guardians'll find out who, and they'll come after us." Freddie said. "I don't know, Angela. This could turn out bad either way."

Angela was reluctant to speak again, for a long time, she finally spoke.

"I want to go home, Freddie. My people will begin to worry and start to search for me."

"...Yeah but," Freddie reluctantly said, ears drooped. He looked at Andy again.

"You gonna be all right?" He asked. Andy lifted his face from the sidewalk, and his eyes were pleading, as if they were saying: _"Please, please help me. I can't do anything like this."_ Maybe Freddie was able to read what his eyes were saying, or maybe he didn't.

Behind him, Angela squeaked in growing fear.

"Freddie, let's get out of here! Please! I don't wanna be here anymore!" Freddie spun his head around at her. He looked at Andy again, he looked like he was under massive stress and couldn't decide between two important decisions.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking down at the ground with eyes closed as a sign of respect and asking for forgiveness, like he was praying to a religious figure. He slowly turned tail on Andy and took Angela's paw. Together, they ran towards the neon splash at the other end of the alley. Andy watched his closest chance of medical aid disappear into nothingness, he slumped his head back onto the concrete for the millionth time and lied there, conflicted on his current situation.

 _Why? Are they afraid of the Guardians?_ He pondered. _They're nothing but a group of nutjobs. I wasn't afraid of them, heck, I bet they're afraid of us. I never turkeyed out of a rumble with them. I can take 'em on any day of the week. I got heart, but I'm bleeding… I'm dying._

The rain was soothing and comforting to Andy's departing soul somehow. It was a cold, bone chilling rain, but his body was hot all over, and the rain helped cool him down to normal levels. He always had a natural affinity for the rain. He could remember sitting with Laura one time in their little apartment, the pounding rain droplets sliding down the windows, and just looking out over the street, watching Pokemon scrambling in the rain and the automobiles rolling by, producing tiny waves of water in their dust. They talked and laughed together, exchanged whatever crossed their minds… and cuddled in eachother's affectionate embrace.

He could also remember how happy he was when the Royals had taken him in. The Royals and the Guardians, two of the biggest. He was a Royal. There was great sentimental meaning in the title to him. Andy was forever loyal to his gang and made friends, it was like he had finally discovered his life had meaning, like he was accepted into society.

Now, in the alley, with the cold rain cleansing his feverish body, he questioned the meaning to the infamous title. If he died, he wouldn't be known as Andy, but would be known as a member of the Royal who died in some pathetic ambush. He wanted to be seen as Andy, if he were to be dead. He wondered suddenly if the Guardian who had knifed him had ever once realized he was Andy instead of a member of his rival gang. Had they known that he was actually someone named Andy or had they simply known that he was Royal wearing a purple jacket? Had they actually meant to stab him, Andy, or had they meant to stab the jacket bearing the title that they were taught to hate?

 _I'm Andy,_ he screamed in his mind, _I'm Andy._

An old female Leafeon stopped at the other end of the alley. Where the garbage cans were stacked, being used by the rain as metallic drums. The Leafeon carried an umbrella with her wrinkly maw. She stepped into the mouth of the alley, a translucent plastic shopping bag over one paw with an obscure view to Andy of it's contents. She lifted the shiny gray lids of the garbage cans, not hearing Andy's SOS signals via grunts because the rain was beating on the cans completely masked any sort of sounds lower than it. She collected her string and her newspapers, and an old straw hat with a feather on it from one of the garbage cans, along with a broken footstool made of polished wood from another. And then she closed the lids and lifted her umbrella high and walked out of the alley mouth. She had worked quickly and silently, and now she was gone in a matter of moments.

The blaring music in the background finally came to an end and Andy could see waves of Pokemon passing at the other end of the alley, and he wondered who the Pokemon were, maybe they attended the concert and were starting to leave. He wondered if he would ever get to know any of them, wondered if the Hitmonchan was among the crowd and boasting about his clean kill. The thought of it made the voice of the Hitmonchan's hatred echo in Andy's head.

 _"That's for you Royal!"_ The voice echoed... _"That's for you Royal!"_

Throughout his adolescent life, there had once been some sort of pride in knowing he was a Royal. But now in the current state of fading agony, there was no pride at all. With the heat draining out of his body and rain beginning to lower his temperature, and the blood pouring steadily between his paws, dizziness began to settle in from the excessive blood loss. He could only think of one thing, that would end up being his dying wish:

 _I want to be Andy._

It wasn't a big thing to ask of the world, it could at least grant him that.

 _I don't want to be a Royal._

The Pokemon… the world, was passing through the opposite mouth of him now, ignorant of his presence. He wanted to let the world know he was still alive and shout:

 _"Hey! I'm alive, can't you see I'm still living and breathing? Can't you see that I still exist?"_

He felt fatigue and his strength lingering. He felt alone, he felt his body becoming numb; but he felt his heart rate slow. He knew that death would arrive in mere minutes. The acknowledgement of this made him into a depressed state. He was filled with a powerful sadness that his life would be over at sixteen. He felt all at once as if he had never done anything, never seen anything, never been anywhere; and all he did was just loaf around in the slums with the Royals. There were so many things to do that he never did. He wondered why he never thought of them before, and wondered why the rumbles, the gangs, the dirty slums, and the purple jackets had always seemed so important to him before. Now they seemed like such small things in a world he was missing, a world that was rushing past at the other end of the alley. It was like the world was abandoning him, and bringing the Pokemon that were passing by along with it instead, allowing them to someday grow up and raise a family, to someday mature and travel around the Earth, to someday do things that Andy dreamed of.

 _I don't want to die,_ He thought. _I haven't lived yet. I haven't lived my life yet._

A very important task sprung into his mind, telling him to take off his dreaded jacket. Death is coming ever so closely, and if anybody were to find him, he did not want them to say, "Oh, it's just a Royal." With great effort, he rolled over onto his back. He still felt a jolt of pain tearing at his stomach when he moved. But he didn't care anymore, he just wanted to take off the jacket. The jacket had only one meaning now, and that was a very simple meaning:

If he had not been wearing the jacket, he wouldn't have been stabbed. The knife had not been plunged in violent hatred of Andy. The knife plunged in the hatred of the jacket. The jacket was only a dumb, meaningless thing that was robbing him of his innocent life. And was successful at such a thing.

He viciously wiggled around with the soaked jacket. He struggled to even move his front paws, they felt as heavy as bowling balls. The pain similar enough to getting knifed again ripped throughout his pale body as he tossed and turned. But he squirmed and fought and twisted until one arm was free from the jacket's imprisonment and then the other. He rolled away from the jacket and lay quite still, panting after a simple task, but it felt as rigorous enough as running a marathon. He listened to the sound of his breathing and the music of the rain and proudly thinking about his accomplishment:

 _Rain is sweet... I'm Andy._

Fatigue was beginning to dominate his senses, strength had all been depleted. He had never felt so tired before in his life.

Death had arrived.

Despite knowing this, Andy was happy, he was able to complete his final wish; he used his last moments in the best way possible, by remember his most favorite, and sweetest memory that happened only a year ago… his last momento taking place in his head.

* * *

 _+=FLASHBACK=+_

 _Andy slumped in an alleyway with his back to the brick and on his hind legs, he was gripping his left arm that had a been badly scraped. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to withstand the immense pain the wound was giving him. He needed to get home, he still lived with his parents, he was the only child of a loving Glaceon father and a caring Sylveon mother. They'd be scared half to death once they see his nasty wounds and try to pry an explanation of how he got it, but at least they would help him after. His parents never knew he was a Royal, whenever Andy went out to be with his gang, he would just say he's going out with a few friends he had made, which is still true; because there'd be no way his parents would let him be apart of them._

 _About a half and hour ago, there had been a fierce brawl between two rival gangs, the Royals and the Guardians. Punches were thrown everywhere and tackles were temporarily the norm, but in the end, Andy was apart of the winning team, the Royals. The Guardians fled and Andy and his victorious gang were left to celebrate. Andy was more than happy to be in this scenario, despite the fact that he was bruised and suffered many minor and a few major wounds from the blows he had endured. He was awarded the purple jacket he loved so much during the celebration by the leader of the gang, a male Pyroar with an intimidating mane, due to his participation in the fight._

 _He left the party early to deal with his injuries and made the trek back home, hoping that his parents won't overreact as much as they probably would. He carried his new jacket on his back, not wanting to wear it now or else he'd get blood stains on it. A bruise on his right hind leg made it difficult to walk and it forced him to rest multiple times so he could maintain the pressure on it. About a block away from home, he nearly tripped on a crack embedded in the sidewalk and he decided to rest in an alleyway after that. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the chirping birds in the sky, the fact that they were slowly migrating away from this lifeless city saddened him._

 _It was only a few minutes later when he heard a scream, he snapped his eyes open and rotated his head in the direction of the cry. He saw a Vaporeon two feet away from him with a terrified expression. She saw the harmless look in Andy's eyes and relaxed._

 _"Thank goodness, I thought you were dead." She sighed in relief,_

 _"What? Me, dead? I don't look so bad." Andy responded,_

 _"What?! You look like you were just mauled by a bear!" The water-type retorted. "Stay right there, I'm gonna go fetch some bandages for you."_

 _"No, I'll be alright."_

 _"I insist! Your injuries would only get worse."_

 _Andy groaned, but nodded. When the Vaporeon dashed away with great haste, he got up and tried to stagger away, he knew it was rude, but he didn't want to cause any trouble for the girl; and besides, he looked fine enough to walk a little further. He had just exited the alley before the Vaporeon came with a roll of pristine bandages on her maw. She stopped Andy from moving any further and rested him on the ground._

 _"I thought you were going to stay," She softly scolded, "Please, don't move. Even if it doesn't feel like it, your wounds are getting worse upon every step you take." She lectured in the most caring voice Andy had ever heard… other than his mother._

 _"Fine." He groaned._

 _The girl lifted the arm with a huge scrape on it and wrapped it in the white cloth she brought, and then she blew a weak Water Gun on places where bruises were present, relief surged through his body when the water connected with his damaged skin. Almost instantaneously, Andy felt good as new and ready to take on another rumble. The Vaporeon worked her magic on other wounds, Andy watched his cuts get covered in a blanket of cloth. He started to take occasional glances at the girl, who was giving her undivided attention on giving Andy medical aid. The glances became more frequent, each time made him realize how beautiful the Vaporeon was more and more, she was like a shining piece of art in this bland excuse of a clean civilization. The girl caught on to his blank stares and looked up, making full on eye-contact with boy. They stared into eachother's eyes for a long time. Before awkwardly looking away, they both blushed._

 _"So… how'd you get these wounds?" The girl asked, trying to cover up what just happened,_

 _"Umm…" Andy stammered, "I… was in a fight." This made the Vaporeon snap her head up in surprise._

 _"What?! Why?" She questioned, Andy just pointed at the jacket next to him,_

 _"I was… in a brawl with the Guardians." He nervously chuckled, "But on the bright side, we won."_

 _"You're in those gangs?! But you look so innocent, I never would've thought of that when I first saw you!" She exclaimed, she realized how out of place the last sentence was, and her cheeks turned into a bright red._

 _"Oh… thanks…" Andy blushed, "B-By the way, what's your name?"_

 _"Oh! I never introduced myself!" She quickly said after covering the last of his wounds. "My name's Laura, it's nice to meet you."_

 _"Name's Andy. It's nice to meet you too."_

 _+=FLASHBACK END=+_

* * *

Andy smiled at his vivid memory of that day, like it was just yesterday. They met almost everyday after that, and became a couple. It was hard to believe that they started living together a few months ago in an apartment they got with the money scraped up from both families, with the permission of their reluctant parents, though they had to live close by them. But now all that was history, he examined his surroundings before closing his eyes and then kept a still stare at the dark sky.

He began to think about what would happen if he died, how the world would continue without him in it. He knew that his parents (and Laura) would be in serious distraught if they heard the news, they'd be in mourning for years. He wondered if they could muster up the confidence to try for another child; he almost had pity for the new child his parents may make, as his little sibling would be in extreme care because of him, at least he/she would be safe from any harm. It made him sad when he pictured a scene of his mom and dad crying, they were good parents after all, they didn't deserve a son like this.

Andy went deeper into his state of depression when he found that his fate was all but too soon, he'd be parted away from Laura quicker than he expected. Andy started to feel sad again, sad that he and Laura were separated before they were married, before they had kids, before they moved away from the city. But maybe Laura could find someone else, someone else to love, someone else to marry and have kids with, someone else to fulfill Andy's dreams. Andy only hoped that she could live her life without him and find someone to replace him; he prayed that Laura would live a happy life. He closed his eyes and gave the dark skies a heart-warming smile.

 _Thank you... mom... dad... Laura..._ He thought before letting nature do it's part on him.

* * *

A Vaporeon in their late fifteen's wondered the streets until she found someone she was looking for at a doorway in an alleyway, just minutes after midnight. She had left her abode to look for him, and when she found him lying on the ground, she knelt beside him and spoke in a soft voice.

"Andy, it's me, Laura."

The Jolteon laid still on the concrete, and didn't respond her, and instead was completely motionless, his fur as unhealthily pale. Angela gently shook him, fear and distraught was beginning to rapidly build in her.

"Andy... are you… there?"

…

…

…

No answer, she shook him again.

"Andy… please, say something…"

…

…

…

No answer.

"Andy… no…"

She noticed a tiny stream of crimson blood exiting through one of the ends of his maw. Trembling, she did a minor autopsy on her lover's body, she moved a limp paw that was over an area below the ribcage. She put the other free forepaw over her mouth when she discovered a large gap in the Jolteon's flesh, blood was channeling out of it before it was immediately washed away by the heavy rain.

"A-Andy…" She quivered, before collapsing over the cold body and bursting into tears, weeping and crying until her violet eyes were dry.

"No… you can't be…" She whimpered, before dashing out of the alley as fast as she could. She didn't stop running until she found a cop, a Roserade with a black police cap with a golden badge on it was standing guard beside a lamppost. She led him to Andy and begged him to help.

The cop knelt down and examined the electric-typed Eeveelution's lifeless corpse. He stood back up.

"He's dead." He said blankly, he had a considerably deep voice. Laura stood in the rain with depression clear in her body language, she didn't keep her eyes off the purple jacket at least a foot away from Andy, she stared right at the small black lettering of his name on it. The cop was looking around for a possible murder weapon, when he spotted the jacket. hen he had a bored expression on his face when he picked up and read the lettering on the jacket, failing to see the small name on it, but instead read the more attention-grabbing gold lettering.

"Hmph, it's just a Royal." He said monotonically, like he didn't care as much anymore.

Laura glared at the cop with teary eyes, she sniffled.

"H-His name's Andy…" She tried to say, but it became a low whisper that the officer couldn't hear; her saddened state surpressed her words. If Andy was still alive right now, he would be heartbroken once he learns that the cop still saw him as a Royal; and he'd be mad at the world, for not even granting his last wish. The Lucario slung the jacket over his shoulder and took out a jet-black notebook, a black ball-point pen on the other paw.

"A Royal." The Roserade muttered to himself, then he began writing on his notepad.

 _ **END**_


End file.
